Live
by Liebling
Summary: ¤ ‘I forgot we were seventeen. A few days ago, it was like...like all the problems of everything went away and today, today I remembered it again.’ DP ficlet. Happy Christmas all! ¤


_'And I'd give up forever to touch you_

Cuz I know that you feel me somehow 

_You're the closest to heaven that I'll ever be_

_And I don't want to go home right now_

_And all I can taste is this moment_

_And all I can breathe is your life_

_Cuz sooner or later it's over_

_I just don't want to miss you tonight_

_And I don't want the world to see me_

_Cuz I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

_And you can't fight the tears that ain't coming_

_Or the moment of truth in your lies_

_When everything feels like the movies_

_Yeah, you'd bleed just to know you're alive_

_And I don't want the world to see me_

_Cuz I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

_And I don't want the world to see me_

_Cuz I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

_And I don't want the world to see me_

_Cuz I don't think that they'd understand_

_When everything's made to be broken_

_I just want you to know who I am_

_I just want you to know who I am_

_I just want you to know who I am_

_I just want you to know who I am.'_

_'Iris' sung by the Goo Goo Dolls.   ;)_

**Authors Notice:  **Short lil' ficlet**.** Yes, I said I wouldn't write again till after Christmas.  But, here I am...and I'm writing.  This just...came.  Although I can guarantee I will not be writing tomorrow on **Christmas** (goodness no, too many _prezzies!)_  This was supposed to be a lot happier than it turned out to be. So sorry to all of you hoping for fluff.  Oh and by the way, Draco's not terribly articulate in this one, blame it on me not liking the idea that he has a way with words. 

Anyway. Happy Christmas Eve and rock on.  Now I'm gonna go take a nap =P

_xo_

_xo_

_xo_

She likes Christmas, it's strange, she knows.  To like Christmas and to have no one but your best friend--and therefore have everyone--to celebrate it with.  It's like this every year, she knows. This **sensation**, this **chaos**...it's like a war, almost.  It's _almost_ something bad.

She loves the smell of pine and gingerbread.  Candles hanging from trees, snowmen with scarves all around them.  Presents wrapped in silver and lace, begging to be opened.  Lives forever changed, _everything_ put on hold.

It's odd, she knows, that after seventeen years _it _still amazes her and takes her breath away. It's odd, she knows, that after seventeen years _he_ still amazes her and takes her breath away.

'Malfoy.'

'Parkinson.'

'You're staying here, aren't you? For Christmas...'

'I'm going home this year,' he says, 'I won't be back for a long time.'

'Oh.  It's just...just'

'What?  That I always usually stay? I'm sorry, Parkinson,' the young man says, and really doesn't sound sorry at all. 'I know. I know all the bloody stories and all the bloody tales but I also know...that they need me back there and I can't _not_ go.'

'What about bringing down the system?  What about...what about killing those in charge?' She asks, almost laughing, almost near tears.

'The world,' he says, 'is getting torn apart by war and sickness and terror and I'd love to sit here with you, by the lake, and just talk and drink whatever it is we drink...'

_'Whisky.'_

'Yes, whisky...'

'Stop it,' she says, 'this isn't any of my fault.'

'Then don't bug me when I decide to go home for the hols!'

'Don't you yell at me, Malfoy. Don't even try.'

'You know...' he says, his tone changing slightly _'I forgot we were seventeen. A few days ago, it was like...like all the problems of everything went away and today, today I remembered it again.'_

'Everything?' She whispers.

'All of it.'

'I don't want you to leave me here...'

He smiles grimly, 'this is what life is all about.'

''Bout what?'

'About...moving on. Look, Parkinson.  This is like...the brink of a war.'

'And this is when you leave me!'

'And this is when...' he whispers '...we live.'

The wind swirls around them, the sky gives way. The heavens...tired.  And two children, two unimportant beings, stand alone...and yet united.  Presents are forgotten, scarves on snowmen fall to the floor, gingerbread loses its taste.

And this is when...they live 

_xo_

_xo_

_xo_


End file.
